


Don't Let Me Go

by RoseIsRelatable



Series: Tour Diaries [2]
Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Romance, Rose's WeUs universe, Shower Sex, Tour Bus, Tour Bus Sex, Tour life, some drama, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseIsRelatable/pseuds/RoseIsRelatable
Summary: The European leg of the tour begins in the United Kingdom, where the boys are bestowed... a tour bus! Score! Interpreter Lydia gets the first two chapters to tell part of the story of ONEWE's first world tour, with all its tangles and weirdness. The members are still writing the rest. Their chapters are assigned based on what this author feels like writing.
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Lee Giwook | Cya/Son Dongmyeong
Series: Tour Diaries [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755520
Comments: 98
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the sequel to Don't Let Me Down!

~LYDiiA~

After we made it through the airport, we were led to an actual tour bus. A real, legitimate hotel room on wheels. “I didn’t know we were getting one of these,” Hyungu muttered. His eyes lit up as he stared at the massive vehicle. “It’s so… proper rockstar! Is this really for us, Hansoo-ssi?”

Hansoo rubbed his chin, sandpapery with stubble since he had got lazy about shaving. “It’s yours,” he confirmed. “Ours, actually. All eight of us have to coexist on that thing. That means keeping clean and tidy. I know I don’t have to tell Giwook, but I don’t trust the rest of you.”

I looked around at the boys. They all wore expressions similar to Hyungu’s as they gazed up at the tour bus. “Can we go inside?” Giwook asked, barely above a whisper. The boys hadn’t opened their tightly packed instrument boxes yet, and they all sat in a pile on a dolly pulled by Seungjin. Giwook excitedly sought out his bass so he could take it on the tour bus. “I’m so glad I get to keep you with me this time,” he cooed when he found the box, pulling it off the dolly and wrapping his arms protectively around it.

“And I know how important I am to my fiancé,” Dongmyeong cracked, folding his arms over his chest and popping his hip. I wondered if he was sassy on purpose, or if it was totally unconscious and automatic.

A plump blonde woman emerged from the bus. She scanned us with grey-blue eyes set above a galaxy of freckles. “These are the K-pop lads then?” she inquired in a soft soprano voice with a pleasant Scottish lilt. I confirmed. “Great,” she said. Her eyes and nose crinkled when she smiled. “Call me Lilah, lovies. Wonderful to meet you, lads. I’m sure I’ll learn your names. I have done in the past. Other groups. GOT7’s one of ‘em. That Jackson…” she trailed off, clicking her tongue. “Well, get on the bus, then. Try not to make a big mess if you open those boxes.”

“Sorry,” I began, “but who are you, Lilah?”

“I didn’t introduce myself proper, did I?” Lilah smacked her palm against her forehead. “Name’s Delilah Stewart, Lilah to my friends. I’m your bus driver. Didn’t think you’d be behind the wheel, did you?”

“I’m Lydia Holloway,” I said. “Interpreter extraordinaire. I’m here to make the language barrier a little easier for the boys to climb over.” I gestured to Hansoo and Seungjin. “Kim Hansoo and Kim Seungjin,” I introduced them. “Hansoo is the manager. The big one, Seungjin, he’s like a bodyguard. They’re not related. They just happen to share a surname. Boys?” I addressed the band. “Do you want to introduce yourselves to Lilah?”

“Ne!” Yonghoon said. “Dul, set… Annyeonghase… yo?” He looked around at his bandmates, who were standing in silence. “ONEWE… ibnida? Guys?”

“That man is Jin Yonghoon,” Dongmyeong began. “He’s our leader. Korea’s perfect man is our drummer, Ju Harin. Lilac hair is Kang Hyungu. He plays guitar. I’m Son Dongmyeong, keys and vocals. I am also our visual. This means I am most handsome member. This is Lee Giwook. He is bassist and rapper, and also the youngest. And he is my love. My fiancé.”

“I’ll have it all figured out in a couple days, lovey,” Lilah promised. “Sounds like you do okay without an interpreter.”

Dongmyeong looked at me. I explained that Lilah had complimented his English skills, and he flushed pink across his cheeks before bowing for her. “He’s struggling with your accent, I think,” I told her.

“That’s fine,” she dismissed. “Plenty of people do, even back home. Now then, climb aboard!” We followed Lilah onto the bus. “This is the front lounge,” she said, spreading her arms out in front of herself. “It’s a cozy little place to sit. Have a meal. Telly over here.” Lilah pointed at a flatscreen mounted on the wall of the lounge. “You could hook up your games or something. This here,” she tapped on a door in the wall, “is my space. Past this door is where I sit when I’m driving. If you need me, this is the door you knock on. To the left in this lounge, you’ve got a little kitchen. I shouldn’t call it that. It’s a microwave and a refrigerator. Next to that’s the bathroom. First rule of a tour bus is that you do _not_ shit in the bathroom on the bus.” The boys snickered when I translated that part. “Laugh all you want. I’m bloody serious.” Lilah kept walking through the center of the long tour bus, so we kept following. “There is a shower in here, so no excuses if you stink.”

“Yeah, Hyungu-yah,” Yonghoon teased the guitarist, resting his arm on Hyungu’s shoulder.

“Why are you always picking on me?” Hyungu whined, though it was good-natured. He was smiling.

“Because you’re the one who stinks,” Harin laughed.

“Lads!” Lilah called. “You’ll want to know about this. These are your bunks.” She stood in the aisle between two walls with four bunk beds each. Every bed had a blackout curtain to separate it from the aisle. “There’s enough for everybody. Top bunk and bottom bunk each have their own merits and caveats. The top is a bit bigger, but you might have to hop and climb to get in, and you’ll come tumbling out on a sharp curve if I turn too hard. The bottom is smaller, but easier to get in and out of, and you’re safer there. Take stock of what you want in a bed and discuss it with your mates. Come along.” We followed her to the very rear of the bus. “Quite a big room, this, isn’t it? Some artists use this for storage. Some use it as a mobile studio. Fall Out Boy put a queen-size bed in one of these once. It’s your second lounge. Do what you will, so long as you don’t damage my bus.”

We loaded up the boys’ equipment and set it all in the lounge in the back. Lilah made her way up to her cab at the front and fired up the engine. As we rolled down the road and away from the airport, the boys set to work unpacking their gear. “This is so exciting,” Dongmyeong gushed as he dug through shock-absorbing packing materials to reclaim his keytar. He clutched it to his chest. “We have a tour bus. It’s like we’ve really made it now! Hey, do you think the lack of staff for this tour was to save money for a bus?”

“Probably,” Harin replied. “It might take some time to get used to being in constant motion like this. It’s like riding on a boat.”

‘Nah, boats are wobbly, babe,” I said. “This is a much smoother ride than a boat.”

“Babe?” Hansoo cocked an eyebrow. “Why is he babe?”

I froze. Harin’s eyes expanded to approximately the size of dinner plates. “Uh…” Yonghoon began. I appreciated how prepared he was to come to our defense, even if nothing came out when he opened his mouth.

“She calls them terms of endearment all the time, Hansoo-yah,” Seungjin explained. “I heard her calling Dongmyeong ‘honey’ just a few hours ago.”

Seungjin is a true lifesaver. Hansoo seemed satisfied with that explanation, though he did ask Seungjin not to speak to him so casually in front of other people. What a control freak.

Giwook crumpled a strip of packing tape into a tight ball and chucked it across at Hyungu. It fell short of the guitarist, who laughed and picked it up, playing with the stickiness as he rolled it in his fingers. “That was pathetic, Giwook-ah,” he teased. 

“Your butt’s pathetic,” Giwook cracked nonsensically. He suddenly hopped to his feet, swaying slightly with the motion of the bus. “I have to pee.”

“Thanks for the announcement!” I laughed as he breezed past me, through the bunks, and to the small bathroom. “Didn’t he go like, three times at the airport? Poor kid.”

“Why do I constantly need to pee, and then I can’t?” Giwook grumbled as he reentered the lounge. “Am I dying?”

“That’s so Generation Z of you,” I commented. 

“No, I’m serious,” Giwook whimpered. “Manager-nim, I think I should go to a doctor.”

And that’s the story of how I ended up accompanying Giwook, Dongmyeong, and Hansoo to a clinic in London. Somebody had to interpret between the two languages. When I translated the couple’s confession of almost never using protection anymore, the doctor sighed. I had a feeling he and I both knew what the problem was. Still, we would have to wait a day or two for test results, and the anticipation was agonizing for Giwook. Fair enough. He was the one living in constant discomfort.

* * *

Yonghoon and Hyungu had chosen a bunk by the time we got back on the bus. Yeah, just one bunk. And they still said it wasn’t a romantic relationship. They’d picked one of the bottom bunks, fearing they might knock each other out of a top bunk. That was fair, and very sound logic. 

Harin and I had to have separate bunks to keep up our secret, but he’d still be sneaking into my room all four times we were scheduled to stay in hotels. We had it all planned out. 

With Yonghoon and Hyungu sharing a bunk, as well as Giwook and Dongmyeong, there was an extra bunk wide open for Lilah, for which she was super grateful. When I told her, she said she was used to having to sleep in her cab or in someone else’s bunk while they weren’t using it. Honestly, whatever she was getting paid wasn’t nearly enough.


	2. Chapter 2

~LYDiiA~

London was one of the four stops we were spending in a hotel. Considering Giwook’s condition, that was probably for the best. He whimpered against Dongmyeong’s shoulder during check-in. “This thing’s gonna fall off,” he whined softly as he clutched at his fiancé’s arm.

Dongmyeong couldn’t stop himself from snorting and grinning as he replied, “It’s not gonna fall off. Calm down, jagiya.”

We didn’t wait long to find out what was wrong with Giwook. The clinic called us the following day. Hansoo and I took his phone into MyeongWook’s hotel room and I translated the conversation in real-time for the three Korean speakers. Poor Giwook was miserable. When we got to their room, we found him curled up in a ball on the bed. Dongmyeong pulled the door open fully and let Hansoo and me into the room. He was holding a saline-soaked cotton swab to the inside of his left nostril, keeping his piercing clean just like the piercer had taught him. When the heavy hotel room door clicked shut, I said into Hansoo’s phone, “Okay, we’re ready now.”

“Okay,” said the woman on the other end of the line. “The cultures came back positive. Mister Lee has a urinary tract infection. They’re terribly rare in young men, usually only the result of unprotected anal sex.” Giwook and Dongmyeong both flushed red when I translated that part, and Giwook curled around himself even tighter, trying to hide his face behind his knees. “We’ll have his round of antibiotics delivered to the front desk of your hotel later today. Make sure he takes them. All of them. He needs to keep taking them, even after he feels better, until the bottle is empty. Someone should be accountable and keep him on top of taking his medicine.”

“Me,” Dongmyeong volunteered, raising his hand just above shoulder-level. “He’s my fiancé. I’m around him more than anyone else.” He tossed his cotton swab in the trash by the bathroom and sat down on the bed to gently run his hand up and down Giwook’s back.

“Mister Lee needs to take his antibiotics with water. Don’t let him use milk or fruit juice,” the woman went on. “We wouldn’t want them to be less effective. In the state of things right now, he should be okay, but infections spread when they’re not treated.”

“Right,” I said. “We understand. Thank you.”

Hansoo hung up and shoved his phone into his pocket. He looked between Giwook and Dongmyeong. “I don’t want to hear anything about how this happened,” he grumbled, turning on his heels and striding out of the room. 

Ball Giwook uncurled and lay on his back on the mattress. He sighed. I sat at the edge of the bed. “Hey, at least you know it’s not falling off,” I cracked. Dongmyeong let out the smallest squeak of a giggle. “Do you need me to pick anything up from the drugstore for you? I know idols don’t want to be caught buying condoms.”

“That’s really sweet of you, noona,” Dongmyeong said. He stretched out beside Giwook, laying his head on his fiancé’s chest. He threw his right arm over Giwook’s stomach and closed his eyes. “We would appreciate it.”

“Myeongie,” Giwook whispered. Dongmyeong lifted his head to look at Giwook. “I hate to say it, but I think I have to pee.”

Dongmyeong whined as he let Giwook get up from the bed. “I hope the antibiotics help fast,” he huffed, flopping back on the bed. 

Dongmyeong reminded me of the weather. In a good mood, he was like a bright, sunny summer’s day. But if he got grumpy, like now, he turned into a little stormcloud. When Hansoo told him he should have been a makeup artist, Dongmyeong turned as deathly cold as a blizzard. 

I leaned over to tap him on the tummy. “Ah!” he giggled. “Noona, I’m ticklish!”

“Sorry,” I said. “I just wanted to know if you guys have any preferences.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “You know,” I went on, “like, are you or Giwook allergic to latex? Or is there a material that works best with the lube you guys use?”

Dongmyeong flushed again. “Latex condoms are fine,” he mumbled. “I’m not used to talking about sex with a woman.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” I said. 

Giwook returned from the bathroom and lay face down on the mattress next to his fiancé. “How are you feeling?” Dongmyeong asked him. Giwook’s whiny response was muffled by a pillow, yet Dongmyeong understood him just fine. “I know,” he replied. “But that’s okay. You can start your medicine as soon as it gets here, and then you can start feeling better.” Another whine issued from Giwook and Dongmyeong laughed. “I can wait, jagiya. I waited seven years to love you. I can wait through a round of antibiotics.”

“No man was ever so patient with me,” I commented. “Giwook-ah, I suggest you keep him.”

Giwook turned his head and grinned. “I’m keeping him,” he confirmed. 

“I’ll be back in a little while,” I said, standing up and straightening my shirt. “I’m going to run to the store for you guys. Do you need anything else?”

“I miss Choco Pie,” Giwook grumbled.

“Bring him anything sweet,” Dongmyeong said. “Whatever you can find will probably help.”

“Do you need anything, Dongmyeong-ah?” I asked. 

Dongmyeong was back to trailing his fingertips up and down Giwook’s spine, staring at him lovingly. “I’m okay,” he said. “Just help my Giwookie feel better.”

Those two are such a cute pair, it almost makes me sick. I guess I sympathize with Hyungu in that way. I left the hotel, following a map on my phone that would take me to the kind of place I could buy condoms and candy at the same time. After spending my whole life living in Minnesota, the way the English drove was disorienting. It was a lot to get used to as a pedestrian, but I eventually made it to the store without a scratch. I grabbed a box of condoms and a bag of Swedish Fish, hoping it wasn’t too strange of a combo, paid, and walked back to the hotel. Halfway there, I got a text from Hansoo. _The front desk called me. As far as I understand, Giwook’s prescription is here. Take it to him._ Huh. Hansoo apparently doesn’t know how to say ‘please.’

I retrieved Giwook’s antibiotics when I returned to the hotel and tossed them in the shopping bag before heading up to our floor and knocking at MyeongWook’s door. Dongmyeong let me in again and I set the bag down on their bed before searching the room for a pen and a pad of paper. “Your prescription is in there,” I explained. “I want to translate the instructions to Korean so you know when and how much to take.” I finally discovered what I was looking for in the small writing desk by the window. Dongmyeong dug into the bag. He opened the Swedish Fish package and handed it to Giwook, then brought the antibiotics to me. 

Translating between Korean and English is harder than it sounds because the two languages have such different sentence structures. I can’t just translate each word. I have to read the sentence as a whole, reword it in the other language in my head, and then write it. It’s the same with interpreting at concerts. I hear what one of the members has to say, take a moment to compute, and spit it back out in English. So I sat in the chair by the desk and scribbled out the directions for the antibiotics on the little pad of sticky notes while Dongmyeong watched and Giwook nibbled at his candy on the bed. “I wish I could do that,” Dongmyeong breathed. 

“You’re pretty good at English,” I said, clicking the pen to retract it and peeling the finished Korean instructions off the pad. “I’m sure you can learn how to do this.” I stuck the translated instructions on the label on the pill bottle. “Is there water in your minifridge?” Dongmyeong nodded. “Get one of those and let’s give Giwook a dose of this stuff.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Giwook. I put him through so much for the sake of a story.  
> Their promo cycle has my head spinning, now that they're doing proper promotions for once.  
> I'm so proud of my boys. *gets all misty-eyed*  
> I hope new WEVEs keep it as unproblematic as we old Lovers always have.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who haven't seen the updated story summary, I've reconfigured this one! Yay!  
> It's boring if Lydia is the only narrator, so now everybody gets to tell the story. Today is Hyungu's turn.  
> Beware! Smut!

@_KangHyun

I watched my professor’s lecture late in the evening in our London hotel room, scratching out notes in my notebook. Yonghoon lay down beside me and watched for a while, occasionally reaching over to touch me gently when he saw me getting frustrated. Every time I glanced over at him, he smiled. 

Harin bid us farewell for the night and snuck out into the hallway. He and Lydia were bound to get caught sooner or later. It made me nervous. I waved at him as he left, then nibbled at the cap of my pen and unpaused my lecture. When Professor Park gave instructions as to what chapters to read for the week, I dug out my textbook and marked the starting point. I sighed and returned my attention to my laptop screen. Yonghoon’s hand trailed softly up and down my right bicep.

Yonghoon clicked the trackpad on my laptop, pausing my lecture. His teeth sank gently into my right shoulder. “Hyung, what are you doing?” I asked. I hit the spacebar and the video continued. Yonghoon paused it again. “Can I  _ help  _ you, hyung?”

“I dunno,” he whispered. “You seem stressed. You should take a brain break.”

“What kind of brain break?” I shut my laptop, stacked my course materials, and set everything aside on the floor by the bed. Yonghoon’s arm curled around my waist and he planted little kisses on the shoulder he’d been chewing. 

I felt Yonghoon’s hand slip up beneath my shirt as he said, “I dunno. Do something mindless.” His fingers were soft, almost a little clammy, as they drew lines across my left side. “Lie down and kiss me. We haven’t had a good makeout in a couple of days.”

Amused, I exhaled a short, silent laugh through my nose. I let myself slide down onto my back, feeling Yonghoon’s hand trail higher up my body, to my chest. My shirt was dragged halfway up my torso. The cool air in the hotel room chilled me, raising goosebumps on my bare stomach and arms. Yonghoon pushed up on his elbow and loomed above me, licked his lips, and leaned down to set the tip of his nose on mine. He was waiting for my move now. I put my left hand on the back of his neck, tipped my head back, and connected our lips. The air conditioning was suddenly far less chilling as Yonghoon’s fingertips dug into my skin. He pressed his mouth harder against mine, licking at my lips. I parted them and let Yonghoon’s tongue inside.

Yonghoon lifted himself up and straddled my hips as we kissed, pinning me to the mattress with one hand on my shoulder and the other still on my chest beneath my shirt. I let out a surprised squeak and he pulled back, chuckling. He dipped his head into the crook of my neck to kiss me there, but his breath tickled and I squirmed and laughed. “You know I’m ticklish, hyung,” I gasped. “You know how sensitive my neck is.”

“Mmm,” Yonghoon purred. “Sensitive, huh?” He bit down on the tender skin of the left side of my neck and I whined, involuntarily arching my back. I heard him draw a sharp breath next to my ear. His teeth detached from my neck as he whispered, “Wanna go further tonight?”

“H-how far?” I stammered. 

Yonghoon rolled over onto his back beside me and grabbed his phone. He pulled up a website. “What kind of porn do you watch?”

“I… what?” I squeaked. “What are you doing?”

“I’m your first guy, right?” Yonghoon asked. I nodded. “So, straight porn. Got it.”

I grabbed Yonghoon’s wrist. “Well, no,” I mumbled. “I mean, maybe…”

“So, gay porn,” Yonghoon revised. “I didn’t think you were into that.”

“I don’t know if I am,” I admitted. “But as long as I’m trying new things, I might as well.”

Yonghoon sat up, so I did too. He cued up a video and held his phone in the space between us. The men in the video were kissing. That was normal. I’d seen MyeongWook kiss each other. Hell, I was just making out with a man myself. They started feeling each other up, removing clothes, and I couldn’t look away. Yonghoon’s hand traveled beneath the waistband of his pants and I shivered, but not from the cold of the room. He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head. “Don’t do anything you don’t want to do, Hyungu-yah.” I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder as one of the men on the screen blew the other. I wasn’t expecting to get hard, but my cock strained at my clothes. A little embarrassed, I followed Yonghoon’s example and reached down to feel myself.

Yonghoon smiled when he noticed. He pulled his pants down, showing me what he was working with, and I looked away with a neon blush on my cheeks. We had all been naked together before. That’s just the nature of things when you share dressing rooms. But I had never seen him… hard. But I wanted to look. It felt so awkward. I tightened my grip on my cock and my wrist cramped from the weird yoga pose I had forced it into so I could play with myself without taking anything off. I groaned, withdrawing my hand and shaking it out. Yonghoon noticed my struggle and leaned over to plant a soft kiss to my cheek. I turned my head and captured his lips. He set his phone down on the bed and worked my pants down off my hips. I made no protest. “I suppose it’s easier this way?” I whispered as we broke our kiss. 

“Mmhmm,” Yonghoon hummed. He picked his phone up again. The video had progressed further, to explicit anal sex, and I couldn’t shake my thought of,  _ Oh, so  _ that’s  _ what Dongmyeong and Giwook are doing when we can hear them having sex at night.  _ It looked painful but still turned me on, somehow. I pushed my pants down to my ankles, spread my legs, and wrapped my fist around my surprisingly excited member. I leaned against Yonghoon while I played with myself. He smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

No matter how hard I tried to keep quiet, a soft moan escaped my throat. Yonghoon wasn’t watching the video anymore. His eyes were on me, mouth hanging slightly open, panting as he wrestled with his own blushing cock. I turned off his phone screen and pushed it to the mattress, having decided I’d rather watch him watching me. I picked up my pace, letting my head drop back onto Yonghoon’s shoulder. He matched my speed.

I climaxed first, with a moan and a sigh, feeling hot cum drip down my fist. Yonghoon cursed as he watched me. The sight had him spilling his own load. It had been so long since my last sexual encounter, and I felt so good, I kept tugging at myself, milking my cock until there was no cum left to dribble out. “I can’t believe I just did that,” I muttered. Yonghoon took my right hand and brought it to his mouth, tasting the semen that glazed my skin. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“Well, I wanted to blow you,” he said. “Let’s clean up.”

* * *

Yonghoon was asleep beside me when Harin returned from Lydia’s room. It was just past midnight, and I was finishing up the lecture Yonghoon had so rudely interrupted. “You’re still doing homework?” Harin whispered, shutting the door quietly behind himself. “How long is that lecture?”

“I got sidetracked,” I said. I wasn’t lying. “How’s Lydia?”

Harin turned the bathroom light on and started stripping down for a shower. “She’s amazing, as always.” 

“Glad you remembered to sneak out this time,” I teased.

“Same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got "사랑" tattooed on the side of my middle finger a couple days ago and now it's itchy.


	4. Chapter 4

Dongmyeong ~*~

Giwook was curled up like a dead bug on the bed, complaining that he felt sick. His forehead was warm. I fixed my hair in the bathroom mirror, looking past myself at my poor fiancé. “I’ll bring you tea and pancakes,” I promised. I finished with my hair and unscrewed the cap on Giwook’s bottle of antibiotics. I tapped a couple pills into my palm and handed them over. “Sit up and take your medicine.” Giwook popped the antibiotics, one at a time, into his mouth and washed them down with bottled water. I ran my fingers through his silky hair. “Will you be able to perform tonight?”

“Of course,” Giwook insisted. He shivered. “You’ll bring  _ hot  _ tea, right?”

“I will.” I tilted Giwook’s head toward me and pressed my lips to his forehead. “I love you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Our hotel did a complimentary breakfast service. I made my way down to the lobby, following the scent of food and coffee. After grabbing a plate to load up with food to share with my love, I sidled up next to Hyungu, bumping his arm with my elbow for attention. “Hey, Dongmyeong-ah!” he said with a grin. “Where’s Giwook? Is he doing any better?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He feels sick and he’s got a fever. I’m bringing him breakfast and tea.”

“You’re a good guy, Dding-ding.” Hyungu sighed and scooped some fresh fruit onto his plate. “I… can I talk to you? About Yonghoon-hyung and me?” I felt my cheeks flush a little as I nodded. “It’s just, last night… Well, let’s just say I understand the mechanics a little better now.”

I almost dropped my plate. “Did you guys-”

“No!” Hyungu hissed. “No, no. We watched. He turned on some gay porn and, well, it looks like it hurts. Does it hurt?”

“Being on top or bottom?” I giggled. Hyungu flushed beet red and shrugged. “They both hurt in their own way. Bottoming burns, but it’s a lot of fun. Topping can be too tight, and it’s probably how Giwook got sick. Whatever you guys do to each other, be safe about it.” I placed a few pancakes on my plate and took a cup of maple syrup, knowing if I poured it over them now, they’d be soggy by the time I got back to Giwook. He wouldn’t be terribly happy about it. “You know, I am pleased you’ve made me your gay advisor.”

“So, it’s not too awkward that I have questions?” Hyungu’s big puppy eyes sparkled at me and I snorted. “I mean, it’s still not romantic…”

“It never has to be, hyung,” I said, piling strawberries on my plate. “You can have sex without romance. Straight people do it too. Shouldn’t be  _ such  _ unfamiliar territory.” I filled up a paper coffee cup with hot water and selected a sachet of green tea, dipping it into the water and watching it quickly turn yellowish green. I’d considered Earl Grey, but I thought the familiar taste of green tea would be more comforting for him. I popped what promised to be a biodegradable plastic lid on top and started to retreat from the lobby of the hotel. “Come see me if you have more to talk about,” I said. “I have a sick fiancé to take care of.”

Giwook had turned on the TV in our room and was watching it lying on his tummy, propped up on his elbows. I had barely made it into the room without dropping breakfast all over myself. I sat down beside him and offered a strawberry. “Why are you the best?” Giwook asked through a mouthful of fruit.

“Just practicing for the rest of my life,” I said as I poured syrup over our pancakes. “If I’m going to be your husband, I imagine this isn’t the last time I’ll have to take care of you while you’re sick.”

“You don’t  _ have  _ to take care of me, nae sarang.”

“I do,” I argued. “It’s my duty as the love of your life. Open up for pancakes!”

“I can feed myself!” Giwook giggled. He sat up and took the fork from my hand. “I picked the right person, I think. I doubt any girl I ever liked would have done this for me.”

I picked up my own fork and dug into the other side of the pancake stack. “Let’s get married,” I said nonchalantly.

“We are getting married,” Giwook said. “We’re engaged. We can’t get married until it’s legal.”

“Giwook-ah, I don’t need an expensive piece of paper to tell the world I’m in love with you.” I smiled. “Break the law with me.” The corner of Giwook’s lips quirked up and he nodded, stuffing another strawberry in his mouth. “As soon as we get home. My mom would be thrilled to cook a wedding meal. We can invite your parents.”

“They won’t come,” he mumbled. 

“Jagiya, you don’t know that.” I let out a heavy sigh, picking at the pancake stack. “We should at least ask them to be there.”

“We can ask.”

* * *

I cradled Giwook’s chin in my hand backstage before the concert that night, holding him steady so I could apply his eyeliner. His eyelid twitched under the brush, jerking the line too high. I wiped it off and started over. “If you open your mouth, your eyelids will relax,” I mumbled.

“That’s not really true,” Giwook argued.

“Always works for me.” I swiftly drew a straight line in one motion, before his eyelid had a chance to react. “All done.” I brought my lips to Giwook’s mouth, planting a gentle kiss. “Are you sure you feel well enough to perform?”

“Totally,” he said. “I just have to resist the urge to run to the bathroom every five minutes.”

Hyungu was spritzing his hair with texture spray, making it kink up in little waves. It was a good look for him, just messy enough to look casual. He caught my eye and half-smiled. “Dongmyeong-ah,” he said, “you should do my eyeliner too.”

“You did your makeup,” I argued. “I’ll do it next time.”

Our first show in London went well, considering that Giwook was sick and Hyungu was preoccupied with his sexuality. Giwook almost opted not to join us for the hi-touch. I knew it would break his heart not to personally greet our fans, so I asked Seungjin to find him a chair. Giwook was so worn out from the performance, he couldn’t keep his eyes open on the ride back to the hotel, passing out on my shoulder in the front lounge of the tour bus. 

“You guys are heavily reliant on each other,” Lydia commented. She licked chocolate ice cream off the spoon in her hand. “It’s sweet. Maybe not entirely healthy, but you seem happy enough that I don’t feel I have the right to tell you you’re loving each other wrong.”

“It runs a lot deeper than you know, noona,” I said softly. I was trying not to disturb the exhausted boy on my shoulder. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”

I guided Giwook to our room at the hotel and helped him undress and get into bed. He was out cold in minutes. Poor guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you guys were craving some soft MyeongWook hours.


	5. Chapter 5

_- Harin -_

I expected to get caught eventually. I thought that was how it would all end for Lydia and me. But on our second night in London, I found myself sitting at the edge of her bed, fidgeting with my fingers, wishing she wasn’t saying what she was saying. “... and honestly, Rinnie, I don’t want to lose my job.” She was rambling now. Intellectually, I knew things weren’t going anywhere. I never should have asked her to be my girlfriend. It just opened me up to feel things I shouldn’t have felt for someone I was really just sleeping with. “Rinnie, we just can’t keep sneaking around like this. You understand, right?” Her fingers carded through my hair and I nodded in silence, a lump I couldn’t explain congesting my throat. “I’m sorry. In a different situation-”

“I get it,” I snapped. I shook her fingers out of my hair. “I’ll go.”

“I don’t want things to be weird between us,” Lydia pleaded as I stood up. She looked so small sitting cross-legged on the mattress, staring up at me through golden hazel eyes. 

“I know,” I sighed. “I’ll do my best. You have to make the same effort though. I refuse to carry everything on my shoulders, noona.” She nodded and let her gaze drop, looking somewhat ashamed. My stomach tied itself up. “Maybe we can revisit this after the tour is over?”

Lydia shrugged, still not looking at me. “If you still want to,” she murmured. 

“I probably will,” I whispered. “I guess I’ll go to bed in my own room.”

“Night, Rinnie,” Lydia said. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s really okay.” I ruffled her hair and half-smiled when she looked up at me again. “See you at breakfast.”

I thunked my forehead against the door of the room I was supposed to be sharing with Hyungu and Yonghoon. I exhaled a long, heavy sigh. Yonghoon opened the door looking disheveled. “Did you forget your keycard or something?” he asked. I shook my head and pushed past him into the room. I flopped face-down on my bed. “Is something wrong?”

“We’re done,” I said simply. “It’s all over. Now we’re just trying not to have everything be awkward between us.” I felt the bed dip under Yonghoon’s weight as he sat down and started rubbing my back with one hand. “I’m not letting you into my pants, hyung. Just because Hyungu-yah did when he became single, doesn’t mean I will.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Hyungu laughed, throwing a pillow at me. It landed on the back of my head. Yonghoon tossed it back. “At least you weren’t too emotionally invested, right?”

“Still stings,” I mumbled. “She was my girlfriend, after all.”

“Was your relationship ever more than sex?” Yonghoon asked.

I thought about it for a moment. “Yes,” I concluded. “We did other things. We cuddled and talked and watched cartoons together.”

“I’m sorry your puppy love didn’t work out.” Yonghoon stretched out on top of me and I cracked up laughing. Hyungu joined us, piling atop Yonghoon, and I grunted under their combined weight. “We love you, Harin-ah.”

“Get off!” I begged. “I’m tired.”

I don’t know how I ended up sharing my bed with the both of them that night. We all woke to a knock on the door. I was trapped under Yonghoon, so Hyungu extracted himself from our cuddle pile and answered, stepping aside to let Dongmyeong inside. He held his phone up, video chatting with his twin. “If I can’t tell on you to  _ your  _ members, I’m telling  _ my  _ leader,” Dongmyeong said, attitude dripping from every syllable. He turned his phone so we could see Dongju on the screen. “Tell Yonghoon-hyung what you just said to me.”

Yonghoon sat up and squinted at the screen. A wide, sunshiney grin spread across his face. “Hi, Dongju-yah!” he sang. “How’s the American tour?”

“It’s great!” Dongju said. He shoved a handful of mini pretzels in his mouth. “I just called Dongmyeong a whiny butt-penis and that’s what he’s complaining about.”

I groaned and rolled off the bed. My back was sore from the weird position I had fallen asleep in. I broadened my chest, squeezing my shoulder blades together and causing a few loud popping sounds in my spine. “Is Giwook-ah okay?” I asked. Dongmyeong ignored me, so I tapped his shoulder. “Hey, Dongmyeong-ah.” He finally looked at me and I repeated my question.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “He’s feeling better already. He’s been drinking green tea like it’s water.”

“That’s probably good for him,” I commented as I rubbed sleep out of my eyes. “It’s all, you know, healthy.” Dongmyeong hummed and his cheeks flushed a little pink. Love was a good look for him. 

“Maybe you just shouldn’t say shitty things to your brother,” Yonghoon shrugged, addressing Dongju. “I mean, I know it’s a sibling thing. But it’s rude and he doesn’t like it.”

“He talks shit to me too!” Dongju argued.

“I’m taking a shower.” I stood up and wrestled my shirt over my head. 

“Remind me to tell Lydia how lucky she is,” Dongmyeong remarked.

“Was,” I corrected. “We agreed to stop everything last night. It’s for the best, so I don’t have a scandal and she doesn’t get fired.”

“What?” Dongmyeong squeaked. “Why is everyone breaking up around me? First, Hyungu-hyung and Amanda. Now, you and Lydia. Giwook-ah and I better not be next. We’re planning our wedding for the first week home after this tour ends.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Seriously. We’re having an illegal wedding. You have to come be an accomplice.”

I snorted. “Sounds good,” I said. “We’ll have to make sure you guys get a proper honeymoon.”

When I emerged from my shower, the room was empty. A pair of jeans and a t-shirt were laid out with socks and underwear, but besides that, even my luggage was gone. Hyungu had left me a note on my phone to say they had packed up and moved everything out to the bus, and that I would find them eating breakfast in the lobby. I dressed, checked the room to make sure Hyungu and Yonghoon hadn’t missed anything, and started off on my way to breakfast.

I had planned on having a healthy breakfast, for once. I wanted fruits and maybe a couple of slices of toast. What I ended up piling on my plate was a little different from my plan. Three pancakes with Nutella between each layer, topped with strawberries and strawberry jam. I added two thick links of breakfast sausage. I took the empty seat at the table, between Lydia and Manager Hansoo. Lydia reached over and snatched a strawberry off my plate. “ _ My _ breakfast,” I grumbled, curling my arm around my plate. 

“Don’t be a grouch,” Lydia teased. She bit into the strawberry, slurping up the juice that dripped out. “How are you this morning, Rinnie?”

“All things considered, not too bad.” I sipped my coffee and lifted a bite of sausage to my mouth. 

Dongmyeong must have been telling the truth about Giwook. The couple actually sat with us at breakfast, eating and chatting like Giwook wasn’t even sick. He watched Lydia and me from behind his shaggy bangs as he sipped green tea from a paper cup. Dongmyeong must have told his fiancé that we were no more. 

Lilah approached, coming from the general direction of the hotel’s main entrance. “Everyone’ll be ready to board shortly, right?” she asked. “We’re stocked with green tea for Giwook. Dunno what kind of tea kick you’re on suddenly, lad, but I support you.” She checked the watch that squeezed her left wrist. “It’ll take us nearly six hours to get to Paris, so the sooner you can get to the bus, the better.”

“We didn’t even get to see the Tower of London,” Hyungu lamented. He poked at the last remaining bite of bacon on his plate with his fork. 

“Go sightseeing on vacation,” Manager Hansoo barked. “We’ll be out in ten minutes, Lilah. Anyone who’s not ready by then, gets left behind.”

Fuck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a cluster.


	6. Chapter 6

^o^-> CyA

On the bus ride to Paris, I had three cups of green tea. Not only was it familiar and comforting, but a quick Naver search turned up results saying green tea helped antibiotics do their job. I was feeling better already.

I was on my stomach on the floor of the back lounge, scratching out lyrics in a notebook. My pen ran dry just as we entered the city of Paris, France. I heard the telltale  _ swoosh _ of the lounge door opening and Dongmyeong fell to his knees on the floor beside me. He put his hands on my back and gripped my shirt. “Giwook-ah, you have to look out the window!” he squealed. “We’re in Paris! We might be able to see the Eiffel Tower!” I rolled onto my back, abandoning my lyrics, and pulled my fiancé against my chest. “Giwook-ah!” Dongmyeong buried his face in my chest. “You smell nice.”

“I’m writing a song,” I informed him.

“About what?” he mumbled into my shirt.

“I think it’s going to be my wedding vows.” I smiled at Dongmyeong when he lifted his head to look me in the eyes. His face held a funny expression. “What?”

“You can’t have a  _ song  _ as your vows!” Dongmyeong exclaimed.

“Why not?”

“Because!” he huffed. “What would I do to match that?”

“Write me a song.” I tried to pull him close again but he resisted.

“Giwook-ah, you know what a freak of nature you are,” he cracked. “Lyrics don’t come as easily to me as they do to you. And are you serious? You want to  _ rap  _ your wedding vows?”

“Tell me what you want your vows to be and I’ll help you turn them into lyrics,” I suggested. “Then we can make it one big song. I’ll rap, you’ll sing. It’ll be really cool.”

“I can’t tell you my vows. They’re a surprise.” Dongmyeong stood up, swaying slightly with the motion of the bus, and pulled the curtains open on one of the windows. “Jagiya, we don’t even know where we’re having our totally illegal wedding. I haven’t given any thought to my vows. I might just wing it and say what feels right.” I shut my notebook and watched Dongmyeong as he stared out the window. He looked like a painting with the sunlight playing on his skin. I stood and approached Dongmyeong from behind, placing my hands on his hips and kissing the crook of his neck. He hummed and turned around to wrap his arms around my shoulders. Doe eyes sparkled up at me. “I want it all to be perfect but I don’t think we have to micromanage everything.” He tilted his head and kissed my lips so briefly I didn’t have the chance to kiss back. “I should call my parents. Maybe they’ll host us. Are you okay with getting married in a living room?”

I laughed. “Myeongie, I’d marry you in a tour bus if I had to.”

We plopped down on the sofa that took up an entire wall of the lounge. Thanks to the time zones, Dongmyeong managed to catch his parents just as they were getting ready for bed. I heard his end of the conversation with his mother. “Eomma,” he said into the phone, “we know it’s illegal. But it’s not like we’re lying to the government and saying one of us is a woman. It’s more of… Like a commitment ceremony thing, yeah… We haven’t thought that far ahead yet. We wanted to have our venue all sorted out before we started thinking about wardrobe and colors… Maybe the first weekend after we get home from Europe, unless that’s too soon for you and Appa… He doesn’t expect them to show up… I don’t know. Should we do western-style suits or hanbok? I think hanbok would be cool.” At this, I tapped his shoulder and shook my head. The very fancy traditional hanbok couples wear at weddings is often too warm in the summer, being made of layers and layers of silk. Dongmyeong smiled at me. “Never mind, Eomma, I think Giwook-ah would rather wear suits...Of course you can still have photos of us in hanbok! And as for colors, green and yellow might be nice… Too much like Sprite, sure. What about orange instead of green?”

“Nae sarang, what about rainbow?” I threw in. Dongmyeong gasped.

“Eomma, rainbow!” he exclaimed. “We don’t really have to get everything planned right away. There’s still time before we get home. Thank you, Eomma. We love you so much.” 

Dongmyeong’s head dropped onto my shoulder and he sighed happily. “She’s amazing,” he said. “There won’t be much space for everybody, but we can get married in the living room. But that’s okay. The guest list doesn’t have to be long. Close friends and family only. And we can have the first Saturday after the tour if you’re okay with that. Remember to tell your parents the date when you invite them.”

I nodded and ran my fingers through his hair. I had no intention of actually inviting my parents. Not after how they treated me when I came out at Christmas time. My dad wouldn’t speak to me, and all my mom wanted to do was ask me where things went wrong. I wasn’t sure which was worse. I was fortunate to be able to escape to Dongmyeong’s family home the next day, where his mother gave me a warm hug and hot tea and his father and brother were happy to let me join their card game.

The bus slowed to a stop and parked, although we hadn’t reached the venue just yet. Manager Hansoo opened the door and stuck his head inside. “All right,” he began, “get out and look at the tower. And don’t say I didn’t do anything nice for you guys on this tour.”

“Tower?” Dongmyeong said. “The  _ Eiffel Tower? _ Manager-nim, are we at the Eiffel Tower?”

“Yes!” Manager Hansoo confirmed. “Now hurry it up!”

“Okay, but I have to pee first,” I said.

“Go fast,” Dongmyeong urged. “I’m not setting foot on the ground outside this bus without you, jagiya.”

People always say that Paris is the most romantic city in the world. I guess, like most things, it’s all about the eye of the beholder. Sure, it was nice, but to me, it was like any other big city. The Eiffel Tower was beautiful though. Obviously not as beautiful as the smile on my Dongmyeong’s face when he saw it in person, but, you know.

Dongmyeong whipped his phone out of his pocket and positioned us in front of the tower. He held out his phone, and I saw both of us on the screen. “We  _ have  _ to take some selcas for our Instagram, Giwook-ah,” he insisted. “Smile for me!” I did, letting a big, genuine smile spread across my face. Dongmyeong is the kind of guy whose enthusiasm is so contagious, you can’t resist. 

Hyungu swiped the phone out of Dongmyeong’s hand. “You can’t just take a selca,” he scolded. “Stand close. Come on, now. Arm around your fiancé.” We followed instructions, letting Hyungu pose us as he wanted. I don’t even know how many pictures he took. “One more. Come on, Giwook-ah, pretend you like him a little.” Dongmyeong beamed at me with crescent-shaped eyes and I swept him into my arms for a kiss. Hyungu whistled. “I think my work here is done,” he said, handing Dongmyeong’s phone back. “You guys would do the same for me.” Hyungu ran off to catch up with Yonghoon, who instantly grabbed Hyungu’s hand, and Harin, who walked alongside and moped. One day before arriving in the world’s most romantic city is a shitty time to lose your girlfriend.

“Wow,” Dongmyeong marveled beside me, scrolling through the photos in his phone’s camera roll. “He gave me so much to work with. Honestly, we have Instagram pictures for days.”

“I feel sorry for Harin,” I muttered. Dongmyeong looked up from his phone, zeroing in on Harin. “He just looks so lonely.”

Our venue for the night was a dark little nightclub. With walls draped in heavy, deep purple curtains, it had a certain vibe I really appreciated. Sort of 80s goth chic. Very cool. There was black and red leather on all the furniture, studded with silver upholstery nails. 

Our English was improving everyday. We almost didn’t use Lydia at all in England. None of us spoke French, so we desperately needed her for the Paris concert. Well, Hyungu tried. He didn’t get very far before giving up and smiling sheepishly at the crowd of fans who all responded by cheering raucously. They loved him just for trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft and boring. Sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

@_KangHyun

I don’t care how big they are, tour buses are fucking cramped. It was impossible to find a quiet place to get my homework done unless I worked on it while everyone else was asleep. On the ride between France and Germany, I curled up on one of the sofas in the front lounge with my laptop and notebook in my lap, and my pen sticking out of my mouth. Professor Park’s lecture was longer than usual, and I was tired, and I kept having to rewind it to keep up with taking notes. 

The bus lurched to a stop and my laptop nearly plummeted to the floor, but a hand reached down in front of me and rescued it. And I realized that it hadn’t been  _ my  _ hand that caught my laptop. “Can’t sleep?” the hand’s owner asked.

I looked up at Yonghoon, who was gently pushing my computer back into my lap. “There’s always too much noise and shit going on during the day,” I complained. “I have to do my homework at night when we’re not in a hotel.”

“We’ll be in a hotel in Germany.” Yonghoon sat next to me and adjusted his glasses. He squinted at me in the low light from my computer screen. “You look tired, Hyungu-yah.”

“Yeah? Are you here to tell me I should take a break from my homework again?” I began reading over the notes I had just taken.

“Actually, I’m out here to get a bottle of water from the fridge,” Yonghoon explained. “Then I saw you sitting over here. You work hard, and I’m proud of you for that, but don’t overdo it. Get some sleep.” He leaned over and gently kissed my temple. 

I dropped my pen, wrapped my arm around Yonghoon’s neck, and pulled him close. “Hyung,” I breathed, “if you’re giving me a goodnight kiss, make it count.”

“What’s got into you?” Yonghoon gasped. I kissed him slowly, savoring the warmth of his mouth and his breath on my cheek. When I pulled away, he shut my laptop. “Go to bed. You’re not acting like yourself.”

I sighed and set my homework aside. “I love studying but this is so much,” I whispered. Yonghoon’s arms snaked around my shoulders and he pulled me against his chest, resting his chin on my head. “I’m so tired, hyung.” Yonghoon planted a kiss on top of my head. “Maybe you’re right. I need some sleep.”

“Of course I’m right,” Yonghoon whispered back. “Am I ever wrong?”

“Frequently.”

“Shut up.”

Yonghoon and I made our way to the bunks and he gave me a boost up into mine, hands gripping just below my ribcage. I perched on the edge, leaning out, tangling my fingers in his silky hair and beginning to think girls are overrated. “Goodnight,” I whispered, bringing my lips close to his again. 

Manager Hansoo tumbled out of his bunk and onto his feet at the same moment. He stared us down. “I’m done asking,” he mumbled. “Do what you want. I don’t care anymore.” He walked away in the direction of the little bathroom cubicle and Yonghoon exhaled a laugh through his nose.

“Do you think we broke him?” I asked.

“God, I hope so,” Yonghoon replied. “Sleep well.”

I tugged at Yonghoon’s hair. “Join me,” I begged. “I’m used to sharing with you now. And Hansoo-ssi says he doesn’t care.”

“And if I can’t keep my hands off you?” Yonghoon breathed.

“Then shame on you for keeping me awake.”

I pulled my body all the way into the bunk and lay on my back. Yonghoon stayed outside. I wasn’t sure if he would be joining me or not. Suddenly, he hopped up into my bunk, climbing on top of me and shutting the privacy curtains tightly as he slotted his left knee in between my legs. I tangled my fingers in his hair again and pulled him down for a kiss. “Shame on me,” he groaned before pressing a bruising kiss to my mouth. His glasses pushed against my cheek. I parted my lips, inviting his tongue inside, feeling a familiar warmth spread throughout my lower body. Yonghoon lowered his hips against mine and I inhaled sharply when his arousal pressed against me. “I might keep you up all night,” Yonghoon whispered, moving his mouth to the side of my neck.

I tipped my head back, trying to keep as quiet as I could with Yonghoon’s teeth on my throat and his hips grinding into mine. He pulled back and stared at me. Hair a mess, glasses askew, and pupils blown, Yonghoon licked his swollen lips like a feral animal. “Stop me, Hyungu-yah,” he growled. I shook my head. I wanted to see where this was going.

Seconds later, Yonghoon’s teeth dug into the tender spot where my neck meets my collarbone. I bit my lip to keep from moaning while he sucked a bit of skin into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it softly. He pulled back long enough to take his glasses off, discarding them in the little nook in the wall where I kept my glasses and a couple of books. His hands worked their way under my shirt, nails digging into my sides as his mouth latched onto my neck again. I was hard. He could feel me. There was no way he couldn’t feel it. “Pingu,” he cooed. “Stop me, please.”

“No,” I moaned. Yonghoon growled, pushing my shirt up and latching his mouth onto one of my nipples. I bucked my hips against him. If he hadn’t noticed my hard on before, he certainly did when I pushed it against his. He gently took my nipple between his teeth and I arched again. His fingertips trailed down my body to the waistband of the grey sweats I wore. 

“Stop me,” he said breathlessly, untying the drawstring and brushing his hand against the dark wet spot that had appeared on my pants. “Tell me not to.” Yonghoon hooked his fingers under the elastic of my underwear, tugging it down my hips with my sweatpants. “Tell me not to suck your cock right now.”

I ran my fingers through his hair and bit my lip, watching my cock fall out, curving up towards my navel and leaking precum on my stomach. “Suck my cock right now,” I rasped.

Yonghoon wrapped his fingers around the base of my shaft and licked me from base to tip. He flicked his tongue over the slit, tasting the clear, slick precum that was beginning to pour out at a fairly steady rate. “God, Hyungu-yah,” he breathed. “You taste like honey.” He opened his mouth, taking me to the back of his throat. I gripped his hair again, twisting my hand, trying to keep from moaning. 

“Careful of your voice,” I squeaked. “Please.” I took my pillow out from behind my head and covered my mouth to stifle my moans as Yonghoon hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head. “Holy fuck.” His teeth dragged slowly up my shaft, only hard enough to be felt. I lifted my hips again, bumping against the roof of his mouth.

Yonghoon matched the pace of his mouth with his hand, stroking me while he licked and sucked me dry. He pulled back after a few minutes and smiled at me, my face half-hidden by my pillow. “Cute,” he whispered. “My jaw is tired.” He kept stroking me faster, squeezing hard. “Tell me when you’re close?” I nodded. Yonghoon returned his mouth to the tip of my cock, just to flick his tongue over it and stimulate where I was most sensitive. I bit my pillow, letting out a low groan.

“Hyung,” I whimpered. “You have four seconds.”

“Three,” he whispered. “Two. One.” He wrapped his lips around me just in time for my orgasm. I came hard into Yonghoon’s mouth. The muscles of my abdomen trembled. Yonghoon lapped up every drop, swallowed, and adjusted my clothes the way they were when we started. “You can do me next time,” he whispered as he tucked himself in next to the opening of the bunk. “Go to sleep.”

I shoved my pillow back under my head, still feeling shaky. Yonghoon’s arms snaked around my waist and he squeezed me hard. I drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the _long_ wait with this chapter. I'm the worst.  
> So to make it up to you all, I hope you enjoyed Yonghoon blowing Hyungu.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring a short cameo by [SayGingi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayGingi/)!

^o^-> CyA

“Now _this_ is what I’m talking about,” Lydia squealed as we stepped inside our hotel in Berlin. “Luxe.”

Somebody, whether it was RBW or the promoters for our Berlin show, had decided to put us up for two nights in a stunning “music hotel” with a view of the venue. That hotel, named nhow, was absolutely insane to look at from the moment we set foot inside the lobby. The floor was purple with pink circular designs, part of the ceiling was hot pink, and there was abstract art on the walls. The seating in the lobby looked like it was melting. The reception desk wrapped over itself in a loop of glossy, hot pink… something or other, looking like an old MP3 player I had as a little kid. This was a hotel lobby on serious drugs.

Dongmyeong latched onto my right arm and put his chin on my shoulder. “This place is wild,” he whispered. “I wonder what our rooms look like.”

“Nae sarang,” I said, covering his hands with my left hand. “If our room looks anything like the lobby, I might not be able to sleep. I’ll be too dizzy.”

“If you focus on me, you won’t be dizzy,” Dongmyeong flirted.

“... spa, recording studios the band can book for practice or recording,” the woman at the reception desk said, rattling off features she thought would interest us. “Keyboards and guitars can be ordered as room service.”

“There’s a spa?” Dongmyeong blurted.

“I can order a guitar?” Hyungu said at the same time.

“Does anyone else feel a little dizzy?” Seungjin asked. I raised my hand. Dongmyeong squeezed my arm tighter and nestled into my shoulder.

We were given our keycards and sent up to our rooms. They had booked Dongmyeong and me into what they called a superior room with a great view of the river Spree. It was more toned-down than the lobby, but still decked out in shades of pink. I could handle that. I love pink. The walls and ceiling were white, but the wall at the head of the bed had a trippy wave pattern in blue, purple, and pink. The bed honestly looked too big for us. I was sure we would end up taking up only a tiny space, snuggled together along one side or in the very center.

There was a strange cubicle in the corner. It was fairly large, made of something pink and transparent, and as I tried to wrap my head around what it was, Dongmyeong gasped. “Is that the shower?” he asked, pointing at the pink cubicle. I squinted. There was a drain in the floor. That was the _shower._ We could see _inside_ the shower. In fact, it was visible from the bed. “Oh, somebody wants us to have sex.”

I blushed and wrapped my arms around my fiancé’s waist, pulling him tight against my chest and burying my burning face in his hair. He giggled. “I’m still on my antibiotics,” I mumbled.

“But you’re doing better, right?” Dongmyeong asked. “You feel good?” I nodded. “If nothing else, I can top.” I squeezed his narrow waist and he hummed happily. “Hey, is that nail polish at the minibar?”

Yes. Yes, it was. They provided a pink nail polish. I guessed it was there in case you wanted to match the color scheme of the room. I sat down on the edge of the bed. “This is a trip,” I muttered. Dongmyeong sat down in my lap, still looking around the room in wonder. “Is this what it’s like to be famous?”

“Yes,” Dongmyeong giggled. He leaned back against me, pushing me down on my back on the bed and lying on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him again, resting my hands on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing. “We have to stay in a place like this on a vacation someday. You know, sometime when we’re not on tour. Sometime when we really have the chance to enjoy seeing the world. Not that I’m not enjoying being on tour.” He sighed. “This is fucking incredible.”

* * *

I painted Dongmyeong’s nails hot pink before sound check that night. Why? Well, if the nail polish is there, you might as well use it. He had smiled sweetly at me the whole time I did it, finally telling me he thought it was cute how much I enjoy nail polish. After I was done, we had a few free minutes to let the polish dry before we had to leave for the venue. 

Our venue for the concert was the Astra Kulturhaus. We were sound checking that night and performing on the following night. The interior of the venue had big support columns. Most of it bore a black and red color scheme. We couldn’t resist taking selcas on the stage, displaying the empty venue and trying to hype up our German fans online.

During sound check, we heard there was a mob of K-pop fans doing a random play dance nearby, someplace called Alexanderplatz. Dongmyeong begged Seungjin to walk us over so he could join in for a while. Seungjin, in perfect Dad fashion, insisted that Dongmyeong needed to ask our mother - I mean Manager Hansoo. To our surprise, he gave in pretty easily. Manager Hansoo was either warming up to us, or just tired of controlling us. In either case, he allowed us to walk with Seungjin and join the random play dance.

They were dancing to _Get Cool_ by Stray Kids when we got there. It was absolutely mind blowing. Everyone supported everyone else, cheering for even the least experienced dancers. And I had a moment of disconnect, knowing I was in Germany, but feeling like I was home in Korea.

The song shuffled to Jennie’s _Solo_ and Dongmyeong squealed, running to join the fans. He grabbed Lydia’s hand and dragged her along. “I’m not doing it,” Hyungu said, arms folded over his chest while Yonghoon gently nudged him toward the group of fans. “You can’t make me.”

Dongmyeong is a natural dancer. Lydia… well, she tried. Bless her. I began to wonder what would happen if we all ambushed a song, and almost as if I had magic powers, the song shuffled again. _End of Spring._ We basically didn’t have a choice at that point, and the four of us scurried into the fray, getting as close as we could to Dongmyeong and Lydia. That’s when the dancers all exploded in cries of, “ONEWE!” “It’s them!” “They’re here!”

We hung out and danced until the fans started packing up and dispersing. Even Seungjin danced to a couple of Twice songs. Now, _that_ was fun to watch! I caught Lydia in the corner of my eye, talking to a young girl, probably around Dongmyeong’s and my age. She patted the girl on the shoulder and guided her over to us. “Guys, this is Gina,” Lydia said, introducing the girl. She was shorter than all of us, with straight brown hair that fell past her shoulders and black rimmed glasses framing her eyes. The best way I can think of to describe her is “prettycute.” She waved shyly. We waved back boldly.

“I can’t believe you guys are here,” Gina said in English. She stuck close to Lydia, I guess because she was shy. “I’m so excited for the concert tomorrow. I really love all of you so much.”

“We really love you,” Yonghoon said, smiling kindly. “Do you want hugs?”

“I can have hugs?” Gina asked. Yonghoon nodded, but Gina stayed huddled by Lydia. Cute. With a little nudge from Lydia, she finally stepped forward hesitantly. 

Harin opened his arms wide for Gina to step into, wrapping them tightly around the girl’s shoulders. “Good English,” he complimented. “Can you speak Korean?” Gina stepped out of the hug and shook her head fast. “That’s okay!”

“I… I wouldn’t know what to say in the little bit of Korean I know,” she said. “I wouldn’t know how to tell you everything I want to say. There’s a lot I want to say.”

“We’re listening,” Hyungu assured her, taking his turn for a hug. He let go and Yonghoon stepped in immediately, barely giving Gina a chance to breathe between hugs. 

Dongmyeong went next. Gina put her arms around his waist. “Congratulations,” she said. “I watched the VLIVE when you and CyA came out and it was so sweet. I’m happy that my ult bias is happy.”

“I’m your ult?” Dongmyeong cried. “Really? Your most favorite? I feel so special!” He leaned in to whisper to her, “We’re engaged now but we haven’t posted about it yet.” Gina gasped as she pulled back from Dongmyeong and looked at me. I nodded and opened up for my hug.

Gina’s arms snaked around me gently and she gave a shy little squeeze. “Thank you, CyA,” she said. “I read about what you did, keeping Dongmyeong safe from his ex-boyfriend. Thanks for protecting him.”

“You’re welcome?” I said, returning the hug. “I would do anything for my Myeongie.”

* * *

“I need a shower,” Dongmyeong groaned, stretching his arms over his head as we stepped inside our hotel room. “I’m all sweaty from dancing.”

“Go ahead,” I said. I wanted to post some of the pictures from the day on the band’s various SNS accounts. I sat down in one of the chairs near the bed, scrolling through my camera roll and selecting my favorites. Dongmyeong pressed a kiss to the crown of my head before walking off towards the bathroom, stripping his shirt off along the way. He really was trying to tempt me.

I posted an assortment of photos to an assortment of apps. There’s no sense in putting everything on every SNS account. I even added a selca to our couple Instagram. It was the two of us on the stage of the Astra Kulturhaus, Dongmyeong clinging to my arm the way he had when we arrived at the hotel. I looked up from my phone just in time to watch him step into the huge shower. I felt a little weird just sitting there watching like some creepy exhibitionist as he turned on the water. That doesn’t mean I could tear my eyes away from my fiancé.

He looked so good. The shower started to fog up and obscure the finer details, but I still watched him massage shampoo into his hair and wished I was in the shower with him. _Wait,_ I thought, _why not?_

I got up from my chair, tossed my phone on the bed, and peeled my clothes off. I grabbed our lube and a condom from my suitcase. I had three days of antibiotics left to treat my UTI, but I felt great. I would continue taking them because I was supposed to take the full treatment, but I was so ready to have a little fun with the love of my life.

I opened the door of the shower, stepping from the cool and dry of the hotel bathroom into the hot and humid. “Took you long enough,” Dongmyeong teased, not even turning around to look at me. I set the lube and condom on a shelf in the shower, then approached from behind and pressed myself against his back, placing my hands low on his hips and taking his left ear between my teeth. I bit down gently and Dongmyeong moaned. “Oh, I picked the right man,” he sighed, settling against my chest. “Wash my back.”

“Mmm, okay,” I said. I squirted some of Dongmyeong’s shower gel into my palm and worked it into a lather before placing my hands on his shoulders. I smoothed my soapy hands over his soft golden skin, feeling every muscle. 

I reached Dongmyeong’s lower back, but I didn’t stop. I let my hands wander down, cupping his ass and giving it a squeeze. “What are you thinking about?” he cooed. 

“Just how much I hope I can get us into a hotel at least as nice as this one for our honeymoon,” I replied as I brought my hands back up, over his hips, and around to his front. He was rock-hard, and I took his shaft in my left hand, groping his balls with my right. He moaned and arched against me.

“We’re having a honeymoon in a blanket fort, remember?” he insisted.

“We hung out in a blanket fort after I proposed,” I argued. “I’m taking you someplace nice for our honeymoon.” I sank my teeth into his shoulder. He let out a small yelp. “What can I get away with in the shower with you?”

“Anything you want.” Dongmyeong let his head loll back against my shoulder while I stroked his cock. Every breath he took ended in a moan. “Stop that. I want to blow you.”

Dongmyeong pulled away from me and turned around, before lowering to his knees at my feet. He looked up at me as he took my erection in his hand, bringing his tongue to my tip. I moaned softly. He reached around, putting both hands on my ass, and took me deeper into his mouth, sucking hard on the upstroke and making a popping sound as his lips left me for just a second. Then he was back at it, taking my cock even deeper. Without meaning to, I thrusted into Dongmyeong’s mouth and he gasped, digging his fingers in and squeezing my ass. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled through a mouthful of cock. The vibration of his voice was like a shockwave to my tip and I moaned for him, placing my hand on his wet hair. He blew me like that for a while, occasionally moaning against me. He pulled away a few times to catch his breath and rest his jaw. I think he felt me getting close, because he finally pulled away and playfully asked, “You wanna stick it in my ass?” He stood up when I nodded.

Condom wrappers are terribly difficult to open with wet hands, but I still managed. Dongmyeong took the condom out of my hands and rolled it onto my throbbing cock. “I love you,” I breathed, staring at him in awe. 

“I love you more,” he replied. “I hope we don’t slip.”

“I’ll just lube you up,” I said. “We shouldn’t drip too much that way.”

Dongmyeong nodded and bent over, bracing his hands against the shower wall. I bit my lip and spanked him. God, he looked beautiful like that. I smeared lube on my fingers and prepped him, only dropping a little on the floor of the shower. I took my time, thrusting my fingers in and out and curling them against Dongmyeong’s prostate. I knew him inside and out. I pushed all four fingers in and he howled. “Fuck me, now!” Dongmyeong demanded. I pulled my fingers out and rinsed my hand under the shower stream before replacing them with my cock, filling my fiancé in one long thrust. Dongmyeong let out a satisfied moan, which I took as my cue to keep going.

I fucked him hard, fast, and rough. Dongmyeong rocked back against me when I thrusted, punctuating each motion with a loud gasp or moan. His right hand left the wall and wrapped around his flushed cock, stroking furiously, cursing as he pushed closer and closer to climax. His legs trembled beneath him when he came and I wrapped my arms around his hips, afraid his knees would give out. I still had a ways to go, and he was starting to whimper at every thrust. “Too much?” I asked breathlessly.

“No,” Dongmyeong breathed. “Don’t stop until you’re finished. I can take this.” Another cry issued from deep within him, echoing around the shower. I decided to try something we hadn’t done before, wrapping my hand around his still-hard cock. “No, no! Too sensitive!” He tried to push my hand away.

“I want to try something,” I grunted. Dongmyeong sounded like a siren, his constant wail filling the shower as I relentlessly pounded into him and stroked his cock, my fist wrapped tightly around it. I came hard, filling the condom. Dongmyeong followed me over the edge shortly after, just a few smaller drops of cum dripping out as he screamed my name. This time, my fears came true as his knees buckled. I held him up, pulled out, and lowered him to his knees. I took the condom off and tied it, then looked at my totally spent fiancé slumped on the floor of the shower. “Are you okay?” I asked.

Dongmyeong was crying. “That hurt,” he whimpered. “That hurt so much.”

“I’m so sorry, nae sarang,” I said, dropping to my knees beside him. I pulled him against my chest.

“Let’s do it again sometime.” I laughed. He looked up at me through teary eyes. “Kiss me, jagiya. My everything.” His bottom lip trembled. I did, and we finished washing up.

That night, in the massive bed, I held Dongmyeong as tenderly as a favorite porcelain doll.


	9. Chapter 9

_- Harin -_

MyeongWook were going to hear noise complaints after that first night in Berlin. I was sure of it. If the rest of us could hear them in our room, that meant we weren’t the only ones. Oh well. At least somebody was still getting laid on this tour.

I couldn’t tell you why I was still so… bitter and crabby about Lydia. Maybe because I had stupidly developed feelings for her. Despite any bravado anyone might imagine when they watch me perform, I’m not the type of rock star who has one-night stands with groupies. Casual sex happens, sure, but it’s always better with feelings.

I lay back against the pillows on my bed. They were thick and squishy. The design of the room was ultra-modern, like the rest of the hotel, and I found it hard to really get comfortable. It was just not homey enough for me. Hyungu was powering through his homework in the other bed while Yonghoon played Pokémon on his Switch. MyeongWook’s room had fallen silent. “Should we text Giwook-ah and make sure Myeongie is still alive?” Yonghoon asked without tearing his eyes from the console’s screen.

“Giwook-ah wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his beloved,” I said. “How is that special Pikachu doing, hyung?”

“Level 24 and growing,” Yonghoon said proudly. “He’s a permanent fixture in my party.”

“I don’t know how to answer this question,” Hyungu complained. “‘Consider the Confucian tendency to humanize myths and interpret them as early distortions of true historical events. In your opinion, is this detrimental to historical study? To the study of mythology? Why or why not?’ I don’t know. Would that be detrimental?”

“Are you taking an exam?” I asked.

“No,” Hyungu said. “Just answering some essay questions Professor Choi assigned. We’re studying the Samguk Yusa. Choi’s asking for really in-depth analysis of a historical document that’s been analyzed in-depth a lot already.”

“You already finished what was assigned in Park’s class then?” I asked. I turned over on my side and faced my friends.

“I’m putting it off until I finish Choi’s assignment. Park gives me more time to work on things. Choi didn’t change her schedule for me at all.” He put the click button end of his pen in his mouth and sucked on it like a pacifier. Pulling it out, he said, “I think I’m going to say it’s not detrimental. Because… we know better than to believe in ancient myths now. Right?”

“Eh, not all of us,” I replied. 

I took my phone off the charging dock on the bedside table, opening Giwook’s contact.  _ Is Dongmyeong okay?  _ I texted.

The response came several minutes later.  _ He’s fine, just sore. We’re going to sleep. See you tomorrow. _

* * *

The hotel had a breakfast buffet. Everything was, of course, decorated in the same dizzying manner as the rest of the hotel, but I was thrilled to get some fresh fruits in my system.The tables were too small for us all to properly sit together, but we stuck to one general area. I was pleased to see that Dongmyeong appeared to be totally fine, aside from an obvious limp and the fact that he didn’t want to lift his arms too much. I didn’t want to know what had caused any of that, just as long as he could perform that night.

I was dressed to go out. We planned on doing a bit of shopping and sightseeing before a short rehearsal before the concert. Lydia had learned just enough German to be able to recite a script at the show, but she wouldn’t be able to interpret on-the-fly like she usually did. I learned how to say “hallo” and “danke,” and decided that was all I needed. That was easy German. I wasn’t sure I could get anything else out with my Korean tongue. The sounds were all just so… foreign.

I felt like a big tourist as I snapped pictures of everything interesting in Berlin, but it was our first time in Germany and I was excited. I used my two words of German over and over while we were out. Learning any amount of a language is a huge accomplishment. While the language sounded a bit brash, we were lucky to encounter friendly Germans who wanted to try and help us with it. Isn’t that really the benefit of world travel? Sharing cultures? Hyungu even traded words with a girl in a store. She was helping us find the right sizes in a few clothing items, telling us what each thing was called in German, and he would counter with the item’s name in Korean. The German word for “pants” is “Hose,” she told us. Hyungu’s response to that? “Baji, in Korean.” The girl repeated the Korean word back to him every time so Hyungu could check her pronunciation. It was cute, watching them try out each other’s language on their tongues.

After a dinner of something called sauerbraten, a kind of roast beef stew we were all pretty fond of, it was time to rehearse for the concert. With no one among us fluent in German, we figured we needed to make sure we got things right. Luckily, one of the promoters of the show was fluent in English. It was a bit of an ordeal, but we worked it out so that Lydia could interpret our Korean as English, and the promoter could take her English and repeat it in German. We didn’t need her for English nearly as much as we used to, but she was still great to have when we really did need her.

I sat alone backstage, absently twirling my drumsticks between my fingers while I watched Dongmyeong carefully smudge Giwook’s eye makeup. At least they hadn’t fought the night before. That was my main concern when I heard Dongmyeong screaming. I still wasn’t trying to find out what they  _ had _ done. “Anybody else need makeup help?” Dongmyeong asked, looking around at all of us. “Yonghoon-hyung, you’re so heavy-handed sometimes. Can I fix it?”

“Fix what?” Yonghoon asked, sounding insulted. He dramatically pressed his palm to his chest.

“Your eyeliner,” Dongmyeong said. “It’s thick. It’s going to melt when you sweat.”

Yonghoon scoffed, but sat patiently while Dongmyeong fixed his eyeliner. I smiled a little. Yonghoon is such a big brother. So whipped for all of us. Giwook plopped down beside me, smoky kohl eyeliner rimming his eyes. He took one of my sticks and tried to mimic the way I spun it. It fell to the floor with a clatter and he laughed. I patted him on the head. It was a good attempt.

“You have five minutes,” Manager Hansoo informed us. He looked tired. Man was not built to go slingshotting around the globe in a pressurized metal tube, and even though we weren’t flying in a plane during the European leg, I think all the travel was exhausting him. Or it was because he was tired of looking after us. We have always been a bit of a handful. Just ask Hyungu and Yonghoon. Leading ONEWE is not for the faint of heart.

I knew when the house lights went out because of the enormous roar that swelled up from the crowd. Did we really have a big audience? In Germany? Crazy. Sitting behind my kit that night, I realized how thankful I am for my vantage point during concerts. I can see all my friends, and I have the privilege of watching them grow.


	10. Chapter 10

*용훈*

We enjoyed a few drinks together in the hotel bar after the concert. Harin had managed to say “annyeong-hallo” when we did our introductions and, as it was the funniest thing any of us had ever heard, we couldn’t just let him live it down. Which is why, when Leelee came to join us, we greeted her in a chorus of “annyeong-hallo!” Harin buried his face in his hands, already a little tipsy and flushed in the cheeks.

“That was the cutest thing,” she said, giggling. She sat down between Manager Hansoo and me and ordered some mixed drink that showed up in front of her in neon green. The glass wasn’t green. The liquid inside was. “Well, this looks radioactive,” she said, raising it high. “Geonbae!”

“Geonbae!” we echoed. “Hey,” I threw in, “what do they say in German? What’s Germany’s geonbae?”

Lydia shrugged and asked the bartender in English. “Prost,” he informed us.

“Peu-rost,” Hyungu tried. 

“Sure!” the bartender laughed.

We had one night left in this beautiful hotel before we were to board the tour bus and head to Italy. Leelee would be a bit more useful there, since only a small percentage of Italians speak English. Looking at the search results on Hyungu’s phone, however, showed us that they apparently prefer to speak English to tourists, whether they’re fluent or not. That seemed to check out with ONEUS’ experiences in Italy. I just hoped we wouldn’t follow in Keonhee and Geonhak’s footsteps and have a pizza ordering incident. 

We knew we were done at the bar when Dongmyeong reached for Giwook’s hands and accidentally knocked both of their drinks over in the process. After apologizing a lot and helping to clean up the spill, Manager Hansoo paid the bill with the company card and ushered us all out of the bar, through the lobby, and up the stairs. 

“I think Hansoo-ssi was embarrassed by us,” Hyungu mumbled, crawling onto the bed as soon as we were inside our room. He hiccupped. He had come down with hiccups while we were all drinking downstairs. “I need water.” I passed him a bottle of water from the fridge under the minibar. He thanked me, unscrewed the cap, and poured water into his mouth. Another hiccup. “Damn it all.”

I laughed and sat down beside him on the bed, pulling him in for a cuddle. “You’re adorable,” I said, burying my face in his hair.

“I know,” Hyungu replied.

Harin flopped backwards onto his bed, scrolling through SNS. “We’re trending on Twitter in Germany,” he informed us. “I don’t know what most of these say. I don’t read English as well as you and Dongmyeong do, hyung. And some of it is in German. Oh, and there are a lot of pictures and videos from the concert already.”

If anyone in a band ever tells you they don’t look themselves up online, they’re lying. We do it all the time. I grabbed my phone and joined Harin’s SNS crawl. “Oh, our fans are quick!” I said, showing my phone to Hyungu. He poked the screen, starting a fancam that was uploaded on InstagramTV. “Yah,” I warned. He giggled. “You had too much at the bar. You should have been cut off way before Dongmyeong made a mess.”

I laid Hyungu gently on the pillow and tried to tuck him under the covers. “Hyung!” he whined, punctuating it with another hiccup. “I can’t sleep with pants on.”

“Then take your pants off!” I laughed.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yes,” I said. “But you’re drunk, so what I would really like is for you to get comfortable and sleep it off.”

“Fine,” he huffed, shucking his jeans off and leaving them in a heap on the floor. He tucked his legs under the blanket and lay on his back, staring up at me. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hi,” I said, trying not to laugh at him again. “G-go to sleep. Stop looking at me with your big eyes.” Hyungu hiccupped again and I could no longer contain it. I burst into a fit of giggles, abandoning my phone on the bed and falling over to wrap my arms around him. I kissed his cheek. “Please, go to sleep.”

“I’m sleeping,” Hyungu protested.

“No more alcohol for him, ever,” Harin laughed.

I spent a few minutes petting Hyungu’s hair while he drifted off to sleep, hiccupping softly every so often.

* * *

A little bleary and worn out, we piled onto the tour bus. “Are you ready to go to Italy?” Seungjin asked. “I’m so excited. If there’s one place I’ve always wanted to go, it’s Milan.”

“Italy?” I said. “Really, hyung? Why Italy?”

“I love Italian food.”

“Sounds like a good enough reason to me.”

It would take about eighteen hours to get to Milan from Berlin, and that’s only if the trip was a straight shot. It wasn’t. We would be stopping for Lilah to take a rest after nine hours of driving, which would bring the total trip duration to 22 hours. She insisted she would only need a four-hour power nap. With only six of our bunks occupied, Lilah would have her pick of the two that sat vacant. 

I helped Hyungu into the bunk we shared. Poor fool. He’d probably be hungover for most of the day. The bus lurched into motion and Hyungu groaned. I assumed he was feeling sick to his stomach. I reached into the bunk and rested my hand on his tummy to soothe him. I’m such a good, tender boyfriend.

When I am someone’s boyfriend.

Which I wasn’t.

Man, Hyungu and I really needed to talk about that. “Pingu,” I whispered, nudging him gently. “We should talk.”

“ _ In  _ the bunk,” he insisted, the words muffled by the pillow over his face. I climbed into the bunk and rested on my side next to him, leaning my weight on my left elbow. “Welcome. Talk to me.”

I sighed. Where to begin… “What do you think of me?” I asked. “Be honest.”

“Of you?” I nodded. “I think you are a ridiculous human being. Sometimes, you’re ten years old. Other times, I’m convinced you are somebody’s grandfather. Despite your brilliant mind - and it  _ is, _ hyung, brilliant - I have observed you being the absolute ditziest man on the planet on multiple occasions. You’re so distractible, you should probably never be trusted behind the wheel of a vehicle of any size. And you are so insanely kind and warm. And just talented as hell. I mean, given the option, I certainly wouldn’t trade you for anyone else. Even if we could get a puppy.”

“I’m falling in love with you,” I blurted. Not the plan, but I couldn’t suck the words back in now, so I rolled with it. “Romantically, I mean.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“It works for MyeongWook!” I argued.

“They’re different,” Hyungu said. “Nobody has ever expected them to be anything else.”

“Aish,” I cursed under my breath. “I know Amanda is still a pretty fresh wound and you probably don’t want to consider having a boyfriend right now, but if you could just take a little time and think about it? I’ll be the best first boyfriend you could ever want.”

“Please, don’t be desperate, hyung.” Hyungu raised his arm, covering his eyes with his hand. “I’ll sleep on it.”


	11. Chapter 11

^o^-> CyA

If I say nothing else about Italy, I want it to be this: food. That’s it. That was my favorite part. I tried everything I was able to. 

First, I woke up in the bunk with my face in Dongmyeong’s chest. He always smells like sweet sage and pears, laundry detergent, and his own unique scent that I can’t quite describe. I balled my fists against him and took a deep inhale. He wrapped a wavy lock of my hair around his finger and tugged gently. “Good morning, jagiya,” he whispered. “Actually, I don’t know if it’s morning.”

“Mmm, are we in Italy?” I mumbled. 

“No clue. There are no windows in the bunks.” He kept absently playing with my hair. “You look tiny when you snuggle against me like this.”

I wrapped my arm around his waist, enjoying the skin contact. Yes, it was a little risky to sleep naked in a bus with a bunch of other people, but it was how we had grown accustomed to sleeping together. I kissed my fiancé’s collarbone. Dozing lazily with him was my favorite part of the day.

Dongmyeong’s fingers caught on a little knot in my hair and he gently untangled it for me. “How do you feel?” he asked. “You only have one pill left to take now.”

“I feel so much better,” I said.

“I love your husky morning voice.”

“I love you.”

I grabbed one of our phones and turned it on to check the time. The lock screen was a picture of me, so I knew I had Dongmyeong’s phone. It was about time for me to take my last antibiotic pill. I smiled proudly. I absolutely slaughtered a UTI. I let my hand drift down over the curve of Dongmyeong’s ass. We had never entertained the idea of having sex on the tour bus, mostly because I had been sick for the entire time we were in Europe so far, but also because we realized everyone would be able to hear everything. Hell, we heard every sigh and slurp when Yonghoon was sucking Hyungu’s dick.

Dongmyeong sighed and kissed my forehead. “Put some clothes on and go take your medicine.”

I obeyed, slipping on a pair of underwear before standing up outside the bunk to put the rest of my clothes on. 

We weren’t quite to Milan just yet. There were a few hours to go. Hyungu was less miserable than he had been earlier, but I still caught sight of him leaning against Yonghoon while they ate cereal together. I grabbed a bowl for myself and filled it with Froot Loops. I couldn’t take my last pill on an empty stomach.

“Hey, what do you guys want for your wedding present?” Harin asked me. “It’s been on my mind since, you know, we’re going home pretty soon.”

“Yeah, I way overestimated how long we’d be in Europe,” Hyungu chuckled.

“I don’t think we need anything,” I said with a shrug. I had a few bites of my cereal before popping the last pill into my mouth. I turned the bottle upside-down and set it on the little table in the front lounge. “And I’m cured!”

“Congratulations!” Harin cried. “Now, about your wedding present.”

“Our wedding present is you guys showing up and supporting us.”

Dongmyeong approached behind me, placing his hands gently on my hips. “If Yonghoon-hyung could speak for us a little at the wedding, that would make it really special,” he said.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Yonghoon said. “I can’t promise I won’t just break down and cry.”

* * *

The first thing we did in Milan was eat. I became quite convinced that Manager Hansoo secretly really did like us, because he suggested a trip to an actual restaurant, not fast food, and let us order whatever we wanted. We had a family-style meal of different pastas and breads with a side of soup made with some yummy Italian potato dumpling-like things. A few of the enormous bowls of pasta contained beautiful fire-roasted tomatoes. We couldn’t get Dongmyeong to touch those dishes. 

I scooped a hefty helping of one of the tomato-bearing pastas onto my plate and Dongmyeong wrinkled up his nose at me. “Sick,” he hissed. 

“You don’t want to try it?” I teased. I picked up a piece of tomato on my fork and held it out, hovering over his garlic buttered noodles. 

“No!” he squealed. “I’ll throw up!” He pushed my hand, knocking me off-kilter and sending the chunk of tomato tumbling off my fork and onto his mound of pasta. “I can’t eat this anymore,” he whispered. 

“Why? Nae sarang, I’ll just pick up my tomato-”

“It’s touching my food. It’ll taste like tomatoes.” Dongmyeong pushed his plate away. “Literally anyone else can have this. I don’t care who eats it. I need a new plate.”

Lydia called for a fresh plate for Dongmyeong. “Are you really about to marry the pickiest eater on the planet?” she asked me. 

“Yeah,” I replied. I took the plate from our server and loaded it up with the buttered noodles I had ruined with my damn slimy tomato. “This is only the second time in our lives I’ve accidentally put something Myeongie hates in his food. The other time was when we were in high school and I put sesame seeds on the kimbap I made for him.” I set the plate down in front of Dongmyeong. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t bury a tomato under all this pasta, did you?” Dongmyeong snapped. I shook my head. “Okay, good.” 

We now had two concerts to play in Milan, two in Barcelona, and our encore stage back home in Seoul. And then we could rest. Well, everyone else could rest. Dongmyeong and I still had a lot of planning to do for our wedding. I wasn’t entirely convinced we’d get it all done by the first weekend after the tour, so I brought it up to Dongmyeong. He agreed, we called his mother, and she breathed a huge sigh of relief knowing that she didn’t have to scramble to finish everything by the time we landed in Korea. Then she asked about a change of venue. The house was awfully small, and there were so many people to invite, even for a small wedding. She wasn’t sure how everyone would fit in the living room. 

So, we talked to Yonghoon. Yonghoon talked to Manager Hansoo. Manager Hansoo rolled his eyes. And then he contacted someone at the company. Sure, a wedding could be held in one of the practice spaces. We were pushing the date out to the weekend following the first weekend home, giving ourselves and our families and friends more time to prepare. On our remarkably long list of wedding things, we could put a checkmark next to “venue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, lovelies, here's the deal.  
> This story will not last much longer. The tour is coming to a close.  
> Following this, I have a few oneshots that will be part of the Key series (of which Tour Diaries is a spin-off), and that will be the end of that. After the Key concludes, Hyungu gets his own story to continue this universe.  
> Kittenfisher (my AU) is still going. And going. And going. I recommend checking that one out if you haven't, because I'm very proud of it.


	12. Chapter 12

@_KangHyun

I thought I would be fine, but I had let myself fall so far behind on an assignment for Park’s class, I had to tell everyone I wasn’t joining them for shopping in Milan. Dinner on our first night there was fine. That was necessary. But I chose to prioritize my homework over wandering through the streets spending all my money.

Our bus was parked out behind the venue, a posh little nightclub where we had been welcomed very warmly the previous night. In fact, we sold out that show. That’s why we added another Milan concert before our final stop in Barcelona, which had also been sold out and extended for another night. The difference was that we would be in a hotel in Barcelona. We slept in the bus in Milan. 

I was a little sad. To make up for the extra shows, we wouldn’t be bussing to Spain. We would be flying. That meant saying goodbye to our friendly Scottish driver. That was the only part of staying on the bus that I wasn’t pleased with. I could have helped everyone give Lilah a fond farewell if I had gone shopping. They were taking her along to get ice cream and buy her a gift as thanks for taking care of us. I was assured that the gift would still be from all of us, even if I wasn’t along to help pick it out.

I was about two-thirds finished with my essay when a voice with a familiar Gyeongsang province accent carried through the bus from the front. “Hyungu-yah! I brought you gelato!” I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Are you in the bunk?”

“Back lounge, hyung,” I called back. I was on my stomach on the floor of the back lounge, quite comfortable and unwilling to move. Yonghoon didn’t make me get up. He stepped through the door and sat down near me, holding a sweet cone of purple ice cream in his hand. “Hi, hyung.”

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “I brought you gelato so you wouldn’t miss out. It’s blueberry.”

“This is all for me?” I asked, taking the cone in my hand.

“Unless you want to share it. I’ve already had my ice cream, so this is for you.” Yonghoon stretched out on his side, lying beside me. “I do kind of want a bite. Just to know how it tastes. Otherwise, I might just lick it off your lips when you’re done.”

“I’d be fine with that,” I muttered into my scoop of gelato. It was amazing. Sweet and creamy, butter-smooth, and studded with tart little blueberries. I licked at it a little, fully aware of Yonghoon’s eyes on me. I wasn’t sure if his hungry stare was directed at me or the ice cream. 

He leaned in for a lick and I glared at him. “It was melting on this side,” he defended. “I was just saving you from getting all sticky.” Then he licked around the side, his tongue colliding with mine briefly before we tilted away from the ice cream and I captured his lips.

I snapped my laptop shut. “If you let me finish eating this, I’ll take a break from my homework and pay attention to you for a while.”

“Deal. But it’s really good. Give me another taste.” Yonghoon leaned in. I kissed him again. “I meant the ice cream, pabo.”

We ended up sharing my gelato. It wasn’t an even split; I got most of it, but Yonghoon snuck a few licks and bites here and there. As I crunched down on the last of the cone, he asked if I was done. I nodded and he was on me in a second, pushing me over onto my back and attacking my neck with kisses. He knows how ticklish I am. It wasn’t fair. I had no defense. His hands slid beneath my shirt and up my sides as I shook with laughter. “Hyung!” I squealed when his tongue ran over the sensitive spot at my collarbone. 

Yonghoon stopped and looked down at me. “Hypothetically speaking,” he began, “would you rather be the top or bottom if we had sex?”

I thought for a moment. “Top,” I finally said. “Bottoming looks more painful.”

“Oh, good,” Yonghoon muttered, returning his mouth to my neck. “Found myself a top.”

I gasped and squirmed as Yonghoon pushed my shirt up my body, eventually lifting it over my head and discarding it on the floor. He moved to kiss down my chest and stomach. “I thought you said that was hypothetical,” I breathed.

“It was, until you outed yourself as a top.” He started tugging at my pants, then stopped, looking at my face with concern in his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you going to blow me again?” Yonghoon shook his head. I bit my lip. “Keep going. I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.” I reached down, gathering his shirt in my fists as I pulled at it. He took the hint, slipping it off over his head. “Are we prepared for this?” I mumbled.

Yonghoon seemed to snap out of a trance as he pushed up away from me. “Oh, yes! Ice cream isn’t all I bought!” I hadn’t noticed the brown paper bag he’d brought along until he started to dig in it, pulling out a condom and a very small, travel-size bottle of lube. “I think we’ve all learned from MyeongWook’s mistake,” he said, waving the condom in front of me. I snatched it out of his hand, blushing hard. He pulled his pants down, revealing his hard cock and reminding me of that night we spent watching porn together. “It’ll be easy. I’ll prep myself. All you have to do is fuck me.” He paused. “Or not fuck me. It’s really up to you.”

“Just… tell me where to go, I guess?” 

Yonghoon smothered his fingers in lube. I couldn’t watch him prep. I felt too awkward. I busied myself with taking my pants off and turning the wrapped condom over in my fingers. He reached for my wrist with his clean hand. “Kiss me, Hyungu-yah.” He tugged me forward and I leaned in for a kiss. He pulled back after a moment. “I meant it,” he muttered against my lips. “When I said I want to be your boyfriend, I meant it.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I’m still thinking about it.”

“Put that on.” He pointed to the condom I’d been nervously fidgeting with. “Wait, not yet.” Yonghoon’s fist wrapped around my shaft and he stroked me, pressing another kiss to my mouth. It felt like fire. “Let me get you rock-hard first,” he breathed, trailing kisses down my neck again. He sank his teeth into my shoulder and squeezed harder, coaxing a drop of precum from my cock. I moaned, letting his name fall from my lips amid a stream of curses. “Now you can put it on,” he whispered.

With shaking hands, I tore open the wrapper. Nervously, I rolled the condom over my cock. Yonghoon dropped to his hands and knees in front of me on the floor. “Lube up and stick it in,” he said. “Go slow. It’s been a while for me.”

I did as I was told, slicking my condom-wrapped cock with lube and positioning at Yonghoon’s entrance. “Are you sure?” I asked. He nodded fast. “Do you want a warning before I do it?”

“Tap my butt,” he said. “Either cheek. Doesn’t matter.”

I took a deep breath, tapped my fingers against him softly, and pushed. I slid in a bit further than I had intended right away and Yonghoon gasped. “Sorry,” I breathed. I kept pushing slowly, like he told me to. It was tight and hot inside, squeezing my cock harder than anything else ever had. Like a vise. It wasn’t comfortable. Once I was buried to the hilt, I whispered, “Hyung?”

“Yeah, Hyungu-yah,” Yonghoon mumbled.

“What now?”

“You’ve had sex with girls. Same thing, different hole.”

I gave a few gentle thrusts. Yonghoon sighed with pleasure. I stopped. “I don’t think I can.” He twisted to look back at me. “I’m sorry. It’s uncomfortable. Too tight. Too… different.”

“That’s okay,” Yonghoon assured me. “Pull out. It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

I pulled out, trashed the condom, and dressed. Yonghoon cuddled me while I finished my homework.


	13. Chapter 13

Dongmyeong ~*~

We chose a cute jeweled butterfly hair clip for Lilah’s parting gift. I gave it to her on the day of our flight to Spain. “Oh, lovies,” she cooed. “You know you’ve been a delight. Stay safe out there.”

“I’ll make sure Manager Hansoo puts in a recommendation for you,” I promised. “When my brother’s group comes on their European tour, I want them to have you as their driver.” Lilah hugged us all in turn as she sent us into the airport. She waved goodbye, her freckled cheeks rounded by a fond smile as she watched us go. 

I could already feel Seungjin’s unease the moment we stepped inside the airport. The man truly hates flying. When I asked why, he told me it was because if we crashed, his children are too young to remember him. That stung. As thankful as I always am to have Seungjin, I worry for him and his family every time we’re reminded that he has one. So, though we always had fun teasing him for his fear of flying, I understood in the airport in Italy. The thought of not being able to go home was scary.

I napped on Giwook’s shoulder on the plane. Our sleep habits would be so utterly fucked by the time we got home to Seoul, I thought it would probably take months to go back to normal. Before I fell asleep, I played with his fingers. His nails were still painted hot pink from our time in Berlin. “Are you painting your nails for the wedding?” I asked as I settled my head on his shoulder. “I thought we could dress in our favorite colors and have rainbow stripes as decorations in the room. So I’ll wear yellow and you’ll wear blue. You could do your nails to match.”

“I like that idea,” he said, planting a little kiss on my head. “Will we be ready to get married a week after we get home?”

“Mhmm,” I mumbled as my eyes closed.

“Wanna get a pet after the wedding?”

“What kind?”

“Goldfish?”

I snorted and cuddled closer, wrapping my arms around his. “Puppy,” I said.

“I think Yonghoon-hyung would have something to say about that.”

If he said anything after that, I didn’t hear it. I slipped out of consciousness in a snap and didn’t wake again until we landed.

The weather was perfect. It was sunny and warm, just like back when we landed in California. The beginning of the tour felt like such a long time ago. At the same time, it didn’t feel like it should be over quite yet. This final stop felt premature. It felt like we should have been to Finland and Russia and Greece. 

I thought Spanish was a pretty language. It had some similarities to Italian, the same rolling, lilting sounds, but with different inflection. Lydia spoke it easily and smoothly at the hotel front desk, almost making it sound simple.

For dinner before the show, we were treated to paella by the promoters from the venue. They were so glad to have us for two nights instead of just the one. More revenue for them, I guess. We were served sangria with our dinner, but Manager Hansoo insisted we each only have one glass. He didn’t want us drunk at the concert. Paella is great. A dish of rice and seafood, of course it would be comforting to a bunch of Koreans. We found it unique, but still somewhat familiar. It also came with a side of bread rubbed with olive oil and tomatoes, and you can probably guess how much of that I ate.

As I always do at concerts, I tried to see through the stage lights. They do something weird to your vision. Because of their brightness and location at the top of the front of your vision, stage lights sort of make you face-blind when you look at the audience in front of you. You can see people as an ocean of silhouettes. I always try, though briefly, to see the faces of the people in the crowd. I’m never looking for anyone in particular. I just feel like the human connection is more present if I can actually make eye contact. That’s why I love it when we turn the house lights up and I can see everyone. It’s an emotionally intense moment, knowing all those people are there to see you. Knowing you give them something they don’t get from anyone else. 

The Spanish crowds were lovely and loud and boisterous, people who clearly know how to party. By the time we finally climbed into bed after the final Barcelona show, I was exhausted. I had never anticipated a world tour being as exhausting as it was, and it wasn’t even a full  _ world  _ tour. I was emotional, crying on Giwook’s chest as we lay in bed together, because I knew we were one sleep away from saying goodbye. We would be flying home the next day, leaving behind Europe and its beautiful cultures. Lydia would be going home, all the way to Minnesota. She was invited to the wedding if she could make time for it. She told us she would try.

I didn’t expect to cry about the end of the tour. I thought I would be excited to go home. I was, really. I was so excited to finally go home, to sleep in our bed again, to start preparing for the wedding. We had to play an encore show in Seoul, which would be amazing. I expected a triumphant return to our home country, a little more worldly and very tired, but feeding on the excitement and energy and love of our people. I had no idea what was really waiting for us when we got home.

Our flight home was earlier in the morning than Lydia’s but she was with us at the airport to send us off. Maybe she did clash with some of our cultural sensibilities, but I thought Lydia and I had become quite close during the tour. She was a great friend to have, and I shed a few tears when she hugged me goodbye. Okay, maybe more than a few. Harin held her longer than everyone else. I had a feeling he wouldn’t get over it for a while, which was okay. I didn’t know what happened, but breakups are never easy, not even the amicable ones.

* * *

Touching down in Korea was unreal. Sure, we’d been to Japan and back before, but that wasn’t nearly as far, nor were we gone for nearly as long. If I wasn’t concerned about my reputation, I might have fallen to my knees and kissed the ground.

We had a couple of nights to rest before our encore, and it was as I had suspected: nobody slept properly. Oh, sure, we were home and comfortable and utterly exhausted. But it was hard for our bodies to adjust to their proper sleep schedules again. Our routines had been totally thrown off. That’s how we ended up eating kimchi fried rice at midnight the night before the encore. Harin and I made it together. I chopped, he fried. 

We gathered around the table in the living room together to eat and reminisce about the tour. There was something cathartic about it, expressing how we felt about the tour and the people. Hyungu ended up crying about Amanda again and I thought about how Yonghoon really had his hands full, trying to give love to someone whose heart was still too broken to fill. 

Our encore stage was explosive. If you didn’t know it, I’m sure you never would have guessed that we were tired. My parents showed up and watched from the balcony at the back of the crowd. I thought I glimpsed Giwook’s mother with them, but either I was wrong or she left right after we finished performing. Either way, I didn’t mention it to Giwook. I didn’t want to get his hopes up.

We were in the middle of packing up when Seungjin approached us with a companion. Amanda looked different. Her hair was shorter, bobbed off at her chin. She carried herself shyly, taking small steps and holding her hands at her stomach. “Look who I found!” Seungjin announced proudly. “She watched from the floor tonight. After your friends and families all left, she told me she wanted to talk to you, Hyungu-yah.”

Hyungu stared at her in silence. I was battling between wanting to run over and hug her and wanting to scream at her for hurting my friend. “It’s pretty important, Hyungu,” she said softly.

He left with her for nearly an hour before storming back inside to finish his meticulous packing. Yonghoon gently set his hand on Hyungu’s back, and Hyungu spun around, dropping the cable he’d been coiling up, and just stared at the rest of us. His face bore a strange mixture of fear, anger, confusion, and hurt. “Hyung,” I said. “You don’t look okay.”

“She  _ lied  _ to me,” he said through a bitter laugh. “She didn’t have a girlfriend. She didn’t cheat. She’s pregnant. What the fuck do I do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading and hanging on through the whole story (if you made it through the whole story). 
> 
> We're going back to The Key next, for two oneshots and one 3-part story. And I think, in light of the last line of this story, you now know why Hyungu is getting his own chaptered story.
> 
> Love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you're enjoying it!  
> And, oh yeah, [STREAM END OF SPRING!!!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLqorz9OvEs)  
> Much love!  
> \- Rose


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